


Demon cake

by Starryfull13



Series: Quarantine [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Cake, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Embarrassed Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Other, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starryfull13/pseuds/Starryfull13
Summary: You’ve summoned a demon, which is really weird because all you were doing was decorating a cake and singing along to the radio.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Quarantine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706911
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	Demon cake

**Author's Note:**

> Some extra sweetness that is very uncharacteristic for me..........

The chocolate fudge cake cooled in its silicone star shaped mold on the cooling rack while you washed up the dishes and prepared the icing to decorate it. It had turned out ok so far. The main challenge would be getting it out of the mould in one piece! 

You say a little prayer to……… someone, despite not being religious while psyching yourself up for the task ahead. Gingerly the cake makes it’s way out of the mould and somehow manages to stay intact! 

The kitchen radio had been playing along in the background while you were baking. Mainly for background noise. As you dance a little celebratory jiggle “Don’t stop me now” by Queen appropriately started playing. 

Turning up the volume you start getting down to business with the decorating. With the high from the sense of achievement and one of your favourite bands playing on the radio you start singing along. 

There’s a sudden loud crack from behind you causing you to jump and nearly squirt icing up the wall. Whirling round to discover the source of the sound you find a confused, tall, red-headed man clad in black standing in the middle of the room. 

*************

Crowley was lounging on the couch in the bookshop while Aziraphale read in his armchair. It had been several weeks since the Quarantine started and the two kept miracling into each other’s places when they felt they wanted to see each other. Which happened to be most days, and nights. 

They had both been staying in Crowley’s flat for the first week. Although they had managed to find new and different ways of entertaining themselves, even Aziraphale admitted a change of scenery would be nice. 

So they decided jumping between the bookshop and Crowley’s flat shouldn’t do any harm. They wouldn’t be interacting with any humans so won’t be putting them at risk by possibly carrying the virus. 

Crowley was slowly but surely getting used to being cooped up (swapping between places and “new activities” had helped) but Aziraphale was beginning to feel the strain. He was missing the opportunity to go outside for pleasure. Missing not being able to see the adorable baby ducks and swans at the park. Most of all he was missing the food. 

Occasionally one of them would walk to the shops and buy some food, and more importantly in Crowley’s opinion alcohol, but it wasn’t the same. Aziraphale couldn’t get his favourite sushi from the restaurant, curry from the takeaway, pastries and cakes from the little bakery. They were all closed. 

Crowley was pretending to watch Doctor Who on his phone. He was actually half watching the episode and half watching Aziraphale get lost in his book. He could see tiny expressions pop up on his face every so often. His breathing rate would change depending on how exciting the story got. Crowley found the whole thing mesmerising. 

For a while now however Aziraphale had an almost wistful frown on his face. 

“What’s wrong angel?” 

“Hm?” Aziraphale questioned, slowly being brought back to this world. Glancing at Crowley. “Oh, nothing dear.” Turning his attention back to his book. 

“C’mon. Somethin’s bothering you.” Crowley swung his legs onto the floor, removing his earphones and putting his phone away. Giving his angel his undivided attention. 

Aziraphale gave a heavy sigh closing his book and placing it on his lap. “It’s just……..The characters in the book are having tea at a lovely teahouse with some delicious sounding homemade cakes. And I wish I had some. That’s all.” He looked down at his lap. “It’s quite silly really.” 

“C’rse Its not!” Crowley reached over to place a hand on the angel’s knee. How much had changed since Armagednot, and more so the start of the quarantine. He still couldn’t quite believe showing affection towards Aziraphale was allowed now. 

Crowley hated his angel being deprived of something he wanted. The cakes and food from the supermarkets were “not the same” according to Aziraphale. 

He had tried a couple of times to cook and bake some simple things for Aziraphale in his flat. But it was a disaster. Crowley doubted even the Hell hounds would dare even to lick the end results. Aziraphale knew nothing of this and never would. 

“When all this is over the first thing I’ll do is take you to any bakery or restaurant you wanna go. Till then I’ll just need to think of something to get you a cake.” 

“Oh Crowley. There’s really no…….” 

Crowley never heard the end of the sentence as he abruptly found himself standing in someone’s kitchen. In front of him a woman jumped, presumably from the noise of him appearing, then whirled round to face him. 

Crowley clicked his fingers for a pair of glasses to appear on his head before the woman fully turned round. Explaining this would be bad enough, never mind his eyes on top of it all. 

“Who the HELL are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?!” The woman exclaimed. Snatching the first thing she could find on the counter, which happened to be a spatula, and holding it up as threateningly as possible at Crowley. 

He took in a sing song Scottish accent. Her wild auburn hair loosely tied back in a bun and pale freckled skin. “Well the Hell bit’s right I suppose. I’ve got no clue how I got here though.” He raised his hands casually, trying to laugh at the spatula. 

“What d’ya mean you don’t know how you got here?” she shouted, face redenning.

"Urgh this is ridiculous.” Crowley groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, you won’t remem…….”Crowley caught a whiff of chocolate cake. “Wait, are you baking?” 

“What’s me baking got to do wi you appearing in ma kitchen!” Her voice was getting more and more shrill each time she spoke. 

Between the shouting Crowley could hear the end of Queen playing on the radio. “C’ourse!! That makes sense! Well, sort of. Don’t know how you summoned me but I know how I got here!” Crowley’s arms were waving around madly. “Where exactly is here anyway?” 

“What? Are you mad?” 

“You could say in a way I’m demented.” A small smirk crept from his lips as his eyebrows wiggled at his own joke. The woman’s face contorted into utter confusion. 

“Hell. Summoned. Play on the word demented!” Crowley placed his hands in the air, moving them each point. Trying to make it as obvious as he could. The woman just stood there, staring at him blankly. 

He was going to have to spell it out. Crowley groaned before removing his glasses with flair. “I’m a demon!” 

Her eyes grew wide as her grip on the spatula tightened. Her heightened and rapid breathing came to an abrupt stop, entire body freezing. “D-demon?” she choked out. “As in…….demon demon?” 

“Well yeah! What other kind of demon is there? Look sit down before you keel over or something.” Crowley gestured to the stool a few steps away from the woman. “N put that spatula down. What harm could you do with it anyway? Flip me to death!” 

The spatula was dropped onto the countertop before the woman cautiously staggered to the stool. “So- so it’s real? It’s all true? Heaven and Hell and things.” Crowley watched her steadily mumble to herself and get to grips with this revelation. 

“Wait so…… the ark, the plagues in Egypt, Jesus on the cross, Adam and Eve, it’s all true?” 

“Yup!” Crowley popped the P. “You’re looking at the serpent of Eden.” He swung on his heels feeling quite proud of himself. 

“Well now I’m rethinking a few life choices.” the woman uttered. “What are you doing here though?” 

“Dunno. Guessing its c’uase you were baking a cake and listening to Queen while I was talking about missing homemade cakes with my………someone.”

Crowley stopped himself before continuing the way he usually would finish that saying. Stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

Revealing he was, something, with an angel could still be dangerous territory. Especially to a human who was still trying to understand everything. Also because he wasn’t exactly sure what he and Aziraphale were. 

Crowley was scared to question their possible change in relationship since the lockdown based on Aziraphale’s reluctancy to admit their friendship in the past. He didn’t want to possibly ruin a good thing. He wasn’t sure if Aziraphale was really “his” anyway. 

“All I was doing was making a practice cake and starting to ice it.” The woman whined, arms opening out with her palms upwards. 

Crowley’s brows furrowed. She must have noticed his confusion and explained she was practicing making a birthday cake with a new mold for her friend’s birthday next month while she had the time in quarantine. The explanation didn’t fully clear up Crowley’s confusion. 

“Do you want it when I’m done?” she asked before continuing “The cake?” at Crowley’s blank expression. If he was still wearing his glasses his eyebrows would have shot well over the top of them. 

“Saves me eating it all to myself. I REALLY don’t need to eat anymore cakes.” She glanced down at herself self-consciously. 

Crowley gulped trying to dislodge the thing in his throat. “Why’d you do that?” he managed to grate out. He wasn't used to "kindness". Especially from people who knew what he was.

“You said you missed homemade cakes and I’ve made plenty over the past few weeks. And can always make more.” 

“I don’t want cake. It’s……” Crowley hurried out before trailing off. 

An affectionate, all-knowing smile crept over the woman’s face. “They can have it then.” She stood up determinedly moving back towards the cake and began icing it again. 

Crowley stood frozen, heart clambering in his chest. He needed to change the subject. “You never answered my question. Where am I?” 

“Wick, North of Scotland.” The woman replied matter of factly, smoothing down the icing. 

“What the! Bit far from London then.” Crowley mused. 

The woman huffed a small laugh turning round to face Crowley. “Now. What’s this “someone’s” name then?” She held up a small piping tube with white icing in it. 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley mumbled. 

“Whit?!” Sheer puzzlement flooded her face. 

“I’ll spell it for you.” 

*****************

Aziraphale was bustling about the bookshop rearranging the books again. Trying not to fret over where Crowley may have gone. There was a loud crack coming from the direction of his back room where Crowley was last seen. 

He hurried through to mercifully find Crowley standing there, unharmed. 

“Crowley!” he cried. “Where have you been?” 

He then noticed a large, iced chocolate cake on a chipped pale blue plate in Crowley’s arms as he held it out towards him. “Got this for you angel.” 

As Aziraphale got closer, he spotted his name written on top of the cake in striking white icing against the chocolate fudge icing. 

“Oh, Crowley!”

**Author's Note:**

> Saw the summary as a writing prompt and this small idea sort of happened. And when I started writing it just kept on expanding into this. Also because I and everyone else seems to be doing a lot of baking during the pandemic. Stay safe everyone and best wishes for this hard time!!!


End file.
